


Taking It Into Account

by borlaaq



Series: This Slow Devour [3]
Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar
Genre: Blood Drinking, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Other, Unaccountably Peckish (Fallen London)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22842193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borlaaq/pseuds/borlaaq
Summary: “Useless,” Veils scolds. “Letting it get this bad. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Relationships: Seeker of Mr Eaten's Name/Mr Veils (Fallen London)
Series: This Slow Devour [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697740
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Taking It Into Account

The hunger gets bad, sometimes. 

He tries to deal with it himself, at first. He leaves in his ship late at night when it's only Fires checking off the manifests. Fires looks the Fist of the Bazaar over, glances down at the papers Emil has provided. Everything is in order. It always is. 

“Big ship to man alone,” Fires says every time.

“Going hunting. Can’t risk my crew. Zee Beasts can be dangerous.” Emil won’t meet Fires’ eyes and it's for the best. His eyes have a gold ring he only gets when he’s hungry and it's too familiar. Fires stamps his seal on the paper and lets the man head out to Zee. 

He returns a week later, always just as late in the night. And Fires has to deal with the paperwork for him hauling in a Fluke or some other terrible beast. Emil always offers to give a cut to the Bazaar, as everyone has to, but Fires shakes its head. “Need it more than us, lad.”

Sometimes Emil can’t go to Zee. He’s a bit more desperate at these times, hunting rats and bigger things in the marshes, stumbling through the shops in search of Rubbery Lumps or meat. 

Sooner or later he’ll end up at Hearts’ shop, counting out each coin in hopes he has enough. Hearts used to upcharge him at first, but as the gold settled in his eyes, it started to pity Emil. It does trades with him now, gives him odd jobs in exchange for giving the Monster Hunter some of its best cuts. 

Emil is smart enough not to ask where the meat is from. All he cares is that it helps the hunger. 

“Why don’t you stop this?” Hearts asks. 

“He needs me,” Emil replies every time. Hearts doesn’t know whether to encourage him or stop him.

Sometimes Emil doesn’t show up to give his reports after a job. Sometimes the Bazaar has just been too quiet without him. Fires sees his ship still docked. Hearts hasn’t sold him meat in days. 

That’s when Veils goes to his home. It’s a rundown place in the Marsh. They had offered him a Spire Townhouse before, when they first started calling him the Fist of the Bazaar. Emil had turned it down. At first Veils had been relieved he wouldn’t be closer, but Veils curses him for it, now. Too far out for when this happens. 

It pries open his window, slips inside. Sometimes it's dark, failed attempts at candle making strewn about. Other times there’s enough candles burning to be a fire hazard. Veils puts them out when it's like this. 

And then it finds Emil, curled up and shaking, looking so much smaller than he is. He looks too weak and Veils has to look away because if it looks for too long Emil’s blood starts to look golden. He’s usually bitten himself or clawed at his back. His eyes are molten gold, burning, and he can’t see like this. 

Veils bends down, pulls Emil into its chest. It drags a claw across its own wrist and then presses it to Emil’s mouth. “Useless,” it scolds as Emil starts to drink. “Letting it get this bad. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Thought the Absinthe would be enough,” Emil mumbles. His shaking is calming. Color is returning to his skin. He still licks at the blood, trying to fight the urge to sink his teeth in. 

“You always think the Absinthe will be enough,” Veils growls. “Go ahead. Bite down.”

He’s weak enough Veils barely feels it, but it helps the hunger. Emil digs his teeth in, tries to tear skin and Veils just holds him through it all. It sings until Emil finally exhausts himself enough to find the sleep he had been avoiding. (He doesn’t sleep when he’s hungry. He can’t stand the nightmares.) Veils doesn’t leave until it knows Emil is over the worst of it. It leaves a bottle of Black Wings Absinthe on the table. 

Neither of them talk about it when Emil returns back to work the next morning. 


End file.
